The Gentlest Lady

They say He was a serious child

And quiet in His ways

They say the gentlest lady smiled

To hear the neighbors' praise



The coffers of her heart would close

Upon their smaliest word

Yet did they say, "How tall He grows!"

They thought she had not heard



They say upon His birthday eve

She'd rock Him to His rest

As if she could not have Him leave

The shelter of her breast



The poor must go in bitter thrift

The poor must give in pain

But ever did she get a gift

To greet His day again



They say she'd kiss the Boy awake

And hail Him gay and clear

But oh, her heart was like to break

To count another year